One Bell, One Sound
by Svelte Rose
Summary: When Hermione wakes up, she's no longer at Hogwarts recovering from the nasty jinx Dolohov sent her way. Instead, she discovers herself strangely inhabiting the body of a severely injured Beaubaxton's student who almost drowned. Then there's her fiancé...
1. Prologue

Author: Svelte Rose

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **PG-13

**Title**: One Bell, One Sound

**Part: **Prologue

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Lestrange Off-spring

**Warnings**: Beware of a slight paraphrasing of historical events.

**Date**: May 17th, 2008

**Note: **Dedicated to Kris since she's the one who gave me this plot bunny to work with. I hope everyone else enjoys it as well! ; Of course, I do not own Harry Potter and my utmost thanks to the pure win that is my beta- Nicky.

**xxxxx**

The Viscount Raleigh, occupant of one of the many paintings adorning this particular hall at the Palace of Beauxbatons shuffled restlessly in his sleep. It was already nearing one o'clock in the morning but for the life of him, he could not rest his mind. All around him, soft snores could be heard from neighboring paintings, their occupants obviously having not encountered his particular ailment.

He sighed and glared angrily at the stuffed chair that he had been painted with. While it was created with the richest of colors and seemed luxurious to its viewers, it was down right uncomfortable. He surmised it being the cause of his many back pains and vowed to at least ask someone if they would paint a settee for him come morning. That way, he wouldn't have to sneak off into other paintings for a better sleeping arrangement.

Standing up, he tiptoed to his right and peeked in on the neighbor's painting, belonging to that of the infamous courtesan, Madame LeVieux. Though she was a mediocre opera singer and a squib at that, Madame LeVieux had been wicked with her love potions and captivated the attentions of many a famous men. These actions alone allowed her to catch hold of a reputation respectable enough to garner a place among these walls.

Not to mention she was a wicked gossip.

Checking that the opulent room was completely empty he quickly deposited himself on a fairly plush settee. The good Madame would probably not be back until noon in which case, he would have already gone back to his own painting. True to her character, she was always gallivanting about the night, doing certain unmentionable things off frames.

He rubbed his cheek against the pillow and sighed happily. Sleep was almost immediate upon contact; his eyelids grew heavy and the world slowly faded away.

Then, the pounding of several footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, a brightly lit wand illuminating the dark area. Several light sleepers we roused from their slumber by this and did not shirk back from voicing their displeasure. But for the two boys that caused the noise, they could care less so immersed in their conversation that nary a sentiment of the paintings could or would be heard.

Viscount Raleigh's bloodshot eyes (colored brown with the finest French oils) shot open as he caught the furious speech of the tallest student.

"This is bloody ridiculous. I wouldn't be surprised if it was another midnight meeting with a paramour gone awry." His acerbic tone cut through the silent air as another boy beside him quickened his footsteps to keep up with the first one.

Viscount Raleigh knew immediately who it was…one of the Lestrange twins, Alleyne. There wasn't a single soul (or painting) in the castle that didn't know the problems surrounding the two boys. Despite their elevated status in the Wizarding society, their family history was as dark as their (now deceased) mother's maiden name suggested.

They were a scandal waiting to happen.

"That's a fairly harsh thing to say and you know that," The second boy responded in his soothing tones, "Look, Alleyne…"

"Aidan, not now. Let me just do my duty and be done with it," He bit out as they rounded the corner.

Viscount Raleigh sighed as the appreciative grumbling around him settled into something resembling that of a peaceful buzz. Sleep was resilient with its victims and the paintings in the hallway would not oppose it.

**xxxxx**

He pushed through the swinging doors of the castle medic-office and was greeted with several solemn faces of his Headmistress and the Medi-Wizard at his school. Still dressed in their pale blue robes with the characteristic Beauxbatons emblem emblazed across their right breasts, he nodded his head in a stiff greeting before ending the 'Lumos' spell on his wand and stepped towards the group.

"Alleyne, Aidan, thank you for coming at such a late hour."

Aidan smiled, a more congenial greeting than his brother's snort.

"Mademoiselle Garnier is still in critical condition," The soothing alto of their Headmistress informed gently as she placed her hands upon her lap, throwing a concerned look at the drawn curtains.

Alleyne and Aidan took the offered seats by the school medi-wizard, Monsieur Leroy and tucked away their wands.

"What happened?" Alleyne was able to finally speak out, his cold blue eyes piercing at the white curtains surrounding the occupant behind it.

Aidan cast an unsure look at his brother and frowned. Despite the austere coldness that his fraternal twin (their births separated only by seven minutes) portrayed to all their acquaintances, he could sense the underlying concern beneath the clipped tones so characteristic of the seventeen year old boy.

Monsieur Leroy took a seat at the foot of the bed, taking a folder from the bedside tray and flipped it open. He resituated his spectacles before looking up at the two boys and frowning, "We're not entirely sure. We think that Mademoiselle Garnier was hit in the chest with a spell at the edge of the lake. She received some severe burns, all of which were treatable, thankfully."

"Is that how she fell into the water?" Aidan pushed forward before his brother clamped a tight grip on his shoulder. The boy quickly sat back in his seat and licked his lips nervously as the medi-wizard shot an inscrutable look at them.

"We surmise she may have been standing fairly close to the lake when it happened. Furthermore, she also sustained a vicious knock to the head due to a floating log and she shows signs of a concussion which may have resulted in some damage to her brain, though it is too early to say for sure."

Madame Maxime shook her head fretfully, her jeweled earrings dangling back and forth.

Snapping the folder shut and tucking it under his arm, Monsieur Leroy finished with a rather dire tone underlying his deep voice, "It's a good thing Miss Boucher found her when she did because if we had waited any longer, she would not be here with us right now."

"Merlin bless us," The Headmistress said fretfully as she clasped her large hands to her chest.

"May I see her?" Alleyne asked in a clipped tone.

"Madame Maxime?" Monsieur Leroy deferred the decision to the Headmistress.

She cast a compassionate glance at the Lestrange brothers, "Of course."

Both Alleyne and Aidan stood up.

"Aidan, wait here, I'd like to see her for myself first," Alleyne murmured just loud enough for his twin brother to hear.

The boy nodded and sat back down, watching with understanding eyes as Alleyne disappeared behind the heavy white drapes. A soft murmur could be heard before a dim light encompassed the covered area.

Any other time, a student casting the 'Muffliato' spell anywhere near an unconscious person would have been cause for concern. But in this case, Madame Maxime simply shuffled off with Monsieur Leroy, speaking in hushed tones just under a whisper with the unconscious student's files between them.

It wasn't a neglect of protocol. After all, Aidan thought with a wry grin, the girl was _practically family_.

**Xxxxx**

He tucked the slender piece of wood back into the pocket of his night robes before lowering himself down on the bed. Blue eyes softened considerably as they studied her delicate features, taking in the creamy complexion which was incidentally, naturally flawless and the generous fringe of dark lashes that circled what he knew to be big, brown eyes.

As though slightly bothered by his close inspection, she fidgeted in her sleep, mussing up the thick curls splayed out all over the pillow. Red lips parted where her breath entered and exited.

_A veritable Sleeping Beauty._

None could deny that the chit, even near-death, was breathtakingly beautiful, even if hauntingly so with her pale countenance.

He clenched his jaw and withdrew a hand he had not even realized was tracing the contours of her heart-shaped face. Once upon a time, he fancied himself in love with her and she with him. It wasn't before long he realized what a consummate actress she was and how many times those seemingly innocent lips had already been spoiled by many others.

_Bloody wench. It would be the last time he ever trusted anybody._

He did not realize, so lost in his thoughts, the twitch of a finger or the long-lashes fluttering open. It was only when she cleared her dry throat did he quickly slip behind his mask of cold indifference and pulled his head up to meet her gaze.

She stared at him with sleep-ridden eyes before wetting her lips and speaking in a raspy voice, "Where am I?" Then, confusion entered her eyes as she glanced more closely at the cold, austere boy before her, "Who are you?"

He was startled but years of aristocratic trainings had taught him the best of stoicism and thus, he remained expressionless. _Either she had to be lying or…_

She fidgeted, attempting to sit up but gave up when a blast of pain shot throughout her body. Feeling somewhat silly for her lame attempt, she simply threw the enigmatic boy a smile which withered upon meeting his icy, blue eyes. He was strangely familiar, even if she knew with clarity that they'd never met before. Speaking was a feat and so she settled for a puzzled look.

There was nothing warm about the smile that made its way upon his features as he answered in a lazy drawl, "You're at the Palace of Beauxbatons. Though, _dearest_-" _A mockery of their relationship,_ "-Mione, you mustn't wound me so." _A nickname he knew she detested._

A characteristic flare of anger flashed in those dark brown eyes before she tilted her head to the side in frank confusion having registered his final words, "I'm afraid I don't understand. I am not familiar with you."

Laud, the woman had a flair for dramatics. A vague thought niggled at his conscience, something or another about possible brain damage which made him even more unable to resist prodding this hateful girl before him. With a grin almost akin to something feral, he responded,

"Why, you're my _fiancé_ of course."

Words could not describe his pleasure at her widening doe-like eyes as she pressed back into the mattress, protests already tumbling from her lips.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **PG-13

**Title**: One Bell, One Sound

**Part: **Chapter 1

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Lestrange Off-spring

**Warnings**: Beware of a slight paraphrasing of historical events.

**Date**: May 17th, 2008

**Note: **I've already written three and a half parts to this story. At this point in time, I am writing the rest of the half and revising the other three.

**Xxxxx**

To put it plainly, she was damnably confused. Was this a dream?

A pinch of her legs under the sheets proved that consideration faulty.

_And bloody hell, did he just say that they were engaged?_

"But I can't be your intended, I already have a boyfriend and he's-," She heard herself vaguely protest as she shook her head, mussing up her already messy curls even further, her features contorted by the confusing situation.

"You have many a boyfriends. However, I hold the most honorable position of being your soon-to-be husband."

She bit her lip. Oh, how hateful his words seemed. Taking in his features, she was fairly taken back by how familiar that aquiline nose and strong jaw seemed. His eyes, however, were a totally different story…she had never encountered such a brilliant color of blue nor a fairer complexion in all her years at Hogwarts. In fact, the only person she knew who could rival him in the paleness of skins was a certain ferrety brat she didn't care to think about.

Her hand pressed upon her chest and a hiss of pain shot through her teeth; she withdrew the offending palm quickly, remembering that she was still recovering from Dolohov's curse from the Ministry battle.

She imagined he would be a fairly good-looking bloke if not for the disdain that surrounded him.

Obviously having had enough of her silent scrutiny, he stood up and waved his wand. Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, he withdrew the curtains and stepped out. Low murmurings could be heard before the curtains were thrown back and she was faced with a pair of amber colored eyes matching his in intensity and two concerned adults.

The owner of the amber-colored eyes was clearly an immediate family member of the blue-eyed boy. The nose and jaw gave it away. He was not her area of study, however.

Recognition flashed in her eyes and her features immediately brightened up with relief having spied the tall build of a woman she encountered once before in her fourth year, "Madame Maxime!"

The man nodded with a small smile on his face, "Perhaps the concussion was not as damaging as we thought."

_Wait, what? A concussion?_

"I couldn't have had a concussion," she said with a good amount of stubbornness as she lifted herself up with the support of her weak arms. It took a fair bit of struggling and a pair of fairly strong arms belonging to that of the amber-eyed boy. She threw him a grateful smile, receiving a sheepish grin in return.

"Really?" The man (she had noticed the various potion splatters upon his robe and declared that he must be the resident medi-wizard) asked with a lift of his eyebrows. He stepped towards the bed and reached behind her head.

His fingers moved up her scalp until it hit a spot an inch or so above her hairline and she pulled away immediately, gritting her teeth at the throbbing pain that shot through her head.

_So she probably _did _have a concussion. _

The medi-wizard lifted her eyelids to study her pupils for a bit, concern written all over his face. "Please state your name."

"What?" She mumbled weakly, the room spinning about.

"Humor an old man," He said with a smile.

She swallowed thickly before answering, "Hermione Jane Granger."

Four pairs of eyes looked with surprise at her.

_Something was clearly wrong. _

He nodded slowly before proceeding with the next question, "Where do you attend school?"

She leaned her head to the right, "Hogwarts School of Magic."

"What year are you in?"

"Sixth." She answered promptly. A glance at their faces showed her answers had been displeasing though why, she did not know.

The wizard took his spectacles off and wiped the lens with a clean handkerchief before replacing them on the bridge of his nose. Then, sitting down and placing his hand above hers in a comforting gesture, "I'm afraid that you answered incorrectly to all questions."

"What the deuce are you talking about?" She said, forgetting her manners for a moment as she snatched her hand back.

Madame Maxime chose to cut in at this point, answering in a soft voice, "Your name is Hera Moniqué Garnier and you are a seventh year student at Beauxbatons Academy."

"_What_!?" Came the incredulous exclamation. She looked up at the surrounding faces and was not at all comforted by their expressions. "You must be kidding me! This is a joke, right?"

The Headmistress shook her head, sighing deeply, "I'm afraid not, dear. You were found barely alive on the lake with a nasty burn on your chest and a severe concussion from hitting a log when you fell into the river."

"This is a fairly strange case of memory-loss. I'll have to consult some people at _Château D'Aide_ to see what they think of this." The medi-wizard commented with his wand in the air as he cast a quick diagnostic spell over her.

_Well, _she thought with a dry mouth and shaking hands, _at least that accounted for the throbbing knot in the back of her head and the stinging sensation in her chest._

"Regardless of what you have, I'll have to keep you here for a couple of days under observation until we know for certain there are no resounding effects of your current query."

Hermione was hardly listening. _What in Circe's name was going on?_

**Xxxxx**

The next morning proved to be no better than the few hours before when she finally fell asleep. Convinced that she had simply experienced a horribly realistic dream, she awoke expecting her eyes to meet with the familiar burgundy of her dorm room bed drapes. Instead, there was a pair of twinkling brown eyes to greet her, the skin on the corners crinkling with the blossoming of a grin. Startled, she clutched the bed sheets against her chest, throwing the unknown man a suspicious look.

"Good morning," he practically chirped. She noticed a hat tucked under his arm and a cane leaning against the chair.

"Who are you?" She immediately croaked in a raspy voice.

"Ahh, Mademoiselle Garnier, you're awake," The medi-wizard said as he walked up to them with a glass of water in hand. "You'll probably need this,"

She took the proffered beverage and sipped generously, her throat singing with relief as the cold liquid slid down. When she finished the entire glass, the amused chuckling of the brown-eyed man could be heard. The medi-wizard simply smiled at her before taking the empty glass and setting it down at a nearby stand. Pulling up another chair, he then seated himself and whipped out his wand to cast some preliminary medical spells.

She recognized the swirls and flicks of his wand.

Satisfied with the diagnostic that came back, the medi-wizard sat back and jotted a few notes down.

She thought this the best time to speak. "Forgive me for being forward but…who is this man?" She held back from wincing at her blunt tone, hoping that the blame could be placed on her disorientated state.

The two men looked at each other and the medi-wizard nodded, the brown-eyed man turning back to her with a reassuring smile.

"I'm your uncle, Hera," he said, her eyes widening upon notice immediately.

She immediately snatched her hand back and clutched it to her chest, eyes widening in alarm, "Uncle? I don't have an uncle! My mother and father were both the only children in their family."

The medi-wizard cast a sympathetic smile, jotting a few more notes down.

Her 'uncle' turned to the medi-wizard and asked in an understanding tone, "Amnesia was it, Monsieur Leroy?"

"I don't have amnesia!" She pushed, recognizing that term immediately as her eyes flickered between the two men helplessly.

Monseiur Leroy's eyes flickered to her just slightly, his head bobbing up and down as he answered, "Yes, though I'm not completely what I should classify it as under."

"Ah," Her 'uncle' answered, crossing his legs and throwing her a placating smile.

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip, puzzled at the nonchalance with which they regarded the situation. She knew that any protests on her part would only seem to be in accordance with their speculations, making the situation far worse than it already was. Her mulish tendencies, however, overrode the sense to stop and urged her to press on. "Upon my word, I promise you that this burn on my chest was not because somebody shot a spell at me near the lake. Well, someone _did _hit me with a curse but it wasn't at the lake you see! I was fighting in the Ministry of Magic with my friends because Lord Voldemort-,"

At this, a startled look had crossed the face of the medi-wizard. She ignored it, having been used to this reaction by many whenever she used the name so brusquely.

"-had broken into the complex looking for something that belonged to my friend Harry Potter. If you just contact Headmaster Dumbledore at Hogwarts, I'm sure he can explain everything to you." She finished breathlessly, her eyes flickering between the two men.

A glance at the medi-wizard told her that her bout of statements were not so well-received. His facial expressions varied from shock to disbelief, and then from speculation to resignation. The brown-eyed man simply sat, smiling as though the world could be falling around him and he wouldn't care.

She didn't prefer either of their reactions.

Monsieur Leroy cleared his throat and pushed his spectacles up his nose, "Miss Garnier-,"

"It's Granger!" She interjected, her tone half exasperated, half pleading, "Hermione Granger!"

He continued on as though never having heard her, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named died seventeen years ago and Mister Potter with him."

She gritted her teeth at this news and closed her eyes, her heart constricting painfully as a pair of green-eyes flashed in her memory. "That's not possible, Harry is alive, he's…I mean…I saw him! We barely escaped and the Ministry of Magic was resoundingly decimated once we finished but he was _alive_!"

Monsieur Leroy sighed with a look of pity in his blue eyes, "I promise you that the Ministry of Magic has not experienced a break-in since then and is very much intact. I can, however, contact Albus Dumbledore if that will make you feel any better but I assure you that he may very well be unable to assist you."

_Well, at least it was something instead of nothing. _She nodded furiously, "I'd like that very much, thank you." _What was this? Harry dead? That wasn't possible! He had _just_ visited her in the hospital ward a few days ago!_

The medi-wizard nodded obligingly and stood up, "Are you going to be alright if I leave the two of you alone?"

"We'll be fine." The man impersonating her imaginary relative quickly responded before she could say anything otherwise.

Monsieur Leroy seemed reassured, nodding once just before turning on his heel and briskly striding away. Once his footsteps could no longer be heard, the brown-eyed man turned back to her, fishing into his pockets before pulling out a small cloth box.

She glanced at it suspiciously, eyes flickering between him and the box.

"I believe this is yours," he simply said, placing the small box on top of her legs, "An aid if you will."

As if that would make her trust it more, she thought as she vigorously shook her head, "No, it's not mine," Then peering closely at him, she bit her lip, "Plus, I can't possibly take anything from someone whose name I don't even know, regardless of whether he's my _uncle_ or not." She had a niggling suspicion that something had been done for such quick acceptance by the faculty medi-wizard.

He shrugged and threw her the same (annoying) smile, "Everyone knows _who_ I am but yes, you are correct. I'm a fairly elusive man."

"Look," She began exasperated, and who could blame her? She was supposedly someone else, stuck in a school she never would have imagined stepping foot in and they all thought her about as loony as Gilderoy to boot, "I think it painfully obvious you know more than you're letting on."

"You'll find people aren't that observant."

"In any case," she continued, "It would be nice if you could possibly aid a girl, you know, all that chivalry and stuff that you men are good at."

His eyes widened before he threw his head back with a laugh, "You truly are something special, aren't you?"

"I won't deign that with a response," she stonily replied, crossing her arms, careful not to touch the bandages covering her wound.

He nodded, "Fair enough. You are correct on all presumptions but for the time being, it's far more advantageous if you just act as though I'm a family member."

She shook her head in disagreement, "But that doesn't help me out at all. I'm supposedly this Garnier bird who was attacked by goodness knows why. _I_, on the other hand- and I'm sure you know which 'I' I meant- am in full knowledge of my memories. The reason I was hit in the chest was due to a curse Dolohov hit me." She licked her lip as he patiently listened to her story, "I just need to know that this is simply a dream, realistic as it may seem so that when I go to sleep next time, I'll wake up back in _my reality_."

"It's not a dream," he answered without any hesitance, swishing a wand at the empty glass on the table.

She caught his slight nod and muttered a gracious 'thanks' under her breath before taking it and drinking in large generous sips. Then wiping at the small droplets that had dribbled from the corner of her mouth, she faced him once more and pushed on with the issue, "A nightmare, perhaps."

He shook his head, "I'm afraid this is very real."

"Then I suppose…Harry is…" She couldn't help but clench the bed sheets in trepidation of his answer, her heart giving frightful lurches as he considered his answer for a few moments before finally speaking.

"The Harry Potter in this world did not live beyond a few months of his life. Thankfully, neither did Tom Riddle, whom you know to be the Dark Lord."

Not one for tears, she thought it a very good time now. Strange as it was, she couldn't even will her tear ducts to work properly despite the jelly-like feeling that had spread to all of her limbs. Instead, she sat back into her pillow, eyes staring up into the ceiling unblinkingly as a muttered oath crossed her lips, "I'm here for a reason, aren't I?"

_Always quick to catch on. _He chuckled and nodded before the sympathy that filled his face surprised her. He stood up, gathering his cane and pushing the chair away as his hands plucked at his pockets, searching for whatever it was that he was search for. Then, another item withdrew from his pocket and he placed it right next to the cloth-covered box, hand moving to squeeze her own slender one. A small smile flitted across his face and then in a murmur, "All will reveal itself in due time, Miss Granger."

Well, if that wasn't the most unhelpful thing she'd ever heard.

"In the meantime, just…observe. I would not have placed you here if it did not possess its own amenities."

Her bushy head shot up, her painfully obvious confusion turned on the friendly man, and "_You_ placed me here? But _why_?" She repeated with more vigor in her befuddlement.

With his cane tucked under one arm, Hermione was vaguely reminded of those early 1900s gentlemen whom she had only encountered on the telly before. When he leaned forward, he smelt of something familiar that she couldn't quite place her finger on, mixing sweetly with that of sage and sandalwood. A large hand patted her in what was to be a reassuringly manner upon her shoulder and she was surprise to note that for reasons she could not explain, a sense of calm resonated throughout upon contact. Her chest stung slightly less.

"If you need me, just call." It was as though the vague response was to act as some sort of answer for hundreds of them buzzing through her head.

She had opened her mouth to respond before the curtains were pushed aside and a handsome face poked in. Both she and the boy were startled, she because of his appearance and him at the sight of the tall man. "Oh, I apologize. I didn't know your uncle was here!"

_He's not my uncle. _She stifled a groan.

"Nonsense, Aidan. I was about to leave anyway." The man said with a winning grin as he clamped a shoulder on the blushing boy she vaguely remembered having visited her the night before. He turned to her and deeply bowed. When he lifted his head again, the brown-eyed man winked mischievously, tipping his hat at her before he pointedly stared at the two items sitting on her lap. "Those are yours to keep. I suggest you peruse them when you get the chance as they will provide certain clues to you and assist you greatly in the future."

"The_ future_?" She asked astounded, "This means that…oh Merlin…I'm not going back home am I?" She said in a quiet whisper, her own brown eyes filled with trepidation and worry.

Unfortunately, the amber-eyed boy had caught her question and threw the two of them his own confused look as he answered, "I'm sure you can go home if you want but school just started, Hera."

"Yes," The man nodded in agreement, mischievousness sparkling in his eyes, "It would be very impractical. As such, I shall bid you all adieu until the next time we meet. Aidan?" His large hand clamped down on the boy's shoulder.

"Yes, Monsieur?"

"Take care of Mademoiselle Garnier, would you?"

Hermione watched this with pursed lips.

Aidan nodded with a reassuring smile, "Of course."

Then the man leaned down and whispered in the boy's ear. Whatever he said must've been something of great embarrassment, Hermione noted silently, because the boy's face flared up quite rapidly and was burning a brilliant shade of red once the man stepped away.

"Um," She began unsure as to how she would continue, shooting a furtive glance at Aidan before sighing heavily, "Thank you."

The man nodded ever so slightly before disappearing beyond the curtains.

"So," Aidan started in an abnormally high voice, the blush having not quite yet disappeared. He set a cellophane bag in front of her and threw her a shy smile, "I brought you some chocolates. Thought it might help, you see, what with the supposed healing properties and all."

Hermione nodded dumbly, staring right at the scrumptious looking squares of brown as though wishing it would solve her problems.

"Thank you," she found herself automatically replying, her voice sounding much stronger than she felt.

_Because as far as she knew, she was in a great mess of a situation, and despite what the kind man said to her, she didn't think a wallet and a mysterious box would be sufficient._

**Xxxxx**

Aidan shrugged off his outer pale-blue robes, a deep sigh escaping his mouth as he wiped at his tired eyes with a lazy hand. Hanging the robe up on his bed post, his jaw dropped in a wide yawn, indicating the lack of sleep he'd experienced the last two days. Thankfully, the professors had all been told of the situation with his soon-to-be-sister-in-law and allowed him to miss out on a day of classes. It didn't help that he was already behind his work as it was, never mind the fact that his own twin had gone about_ his_ day as though his fiancée wasn't currently disposed in the hospital ward with some farce of a notion that she was _someone else_.

He leaned against the bedpost, closing his eyes and wondering for a scant second what it would feel if he allowed himself to sleep standing up. Then, shaking himself free of the silly notion, he opened his eyes and turned around, barely stifling a shout of surprise as he took several steps back from the proximity of his blue-eyed twin.

"Merlin, Alleyne! You can't sneak up on a bloke like that!"

Alleyne shrugged nonchalantly, eyes watching the annoyed amber-eyed boy, "How is…"

"Not good." Aidan cut in, annoyance in his voice as he sat down on the plush double twin, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Alleyne did not miss the sharpness in his twin's usually soft-spoken voice and could not help the strange sense of worry filling his entire being. He slowly lowered himself down next to his twin and asked in what he hoped to be a gentler tone- though really, it showcased his awkwardness with the attempt more than accomplishing its venue, "Do they know what's wrong with her?"

"Other than the fact that she still thinks she's this Granger character, nobody knows. Monsieur Leroy said that a team of _Château D'Aide's_ medi-witches and wizards will be arriving tomorrow with Albus Dumbledore to do a more thorough examination." Aidan replied just as quietly.

"Albus Dumbledore? What's he got to do with this?" Alleyne questioned only to be met with a shrug.

"Why do you care? I thought you were _done with your obligations_?" The amber-eyed boy asked in a strangely defensive voice.

Alleyne could not blame his twin for throwing his words from last night back in his face. After all, he knew his brother was the more compassionate of them both, possessing something of a soft spot for the curly-haired girl in question and his own persistent willingness to all but wash his hands of the girl would obviously garner a sort of defense from him.

No, he could not blame his twin at all. Nonetheless, he was fairly annoyed. The girl was _his fiancée_ and it was his own flesh and blood defending someone who had more than made a fool of him in the preceding years.

His mind was immediately filled with a pair of doe-like brown eyes and instead of placating him; anger filled his body as his hands curled into knuckle white fists. "Bloody hell, Aidan. She thinks she's_ someone_ else. I think that warrants a change in attitude, wouldn't you agree?" Alleyne heard himself bite out in a harsher tone than he wanted to. Not that it was any different from his usual self; he wasn't one for kind words and gentleness of character. _He wasn't Aidan._

_He wasn't quite sure whom or what his anger was leveled at._

"Alleyne," Aidan's worried tone sliced through his thoughts. A hesitant hand was placed upon his brother's tense shoulders as he hesitated before speaking even further. "It's really serious this time. I know Hera's committed a fair amount of transgressions against you but …"

"Should I go see her?" Alleyne asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

Aidan threw his twin a reassuring smile, "Most certainly. Just be kind."

_He knew what his twin said, but he wasn't quite sure if that was _possible.


End file.
